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Regis was in no hurry to return to the manor, but he was determined to put as much distance between himself and that dilapidated shack in the middle of nowhere; and the Witcher.
The witcher he let go. And why? Because after everything he had been right.
And his words still echoed in his mind:
'You can’t even fight your own nature, can you?’
Regis had lost his appetite for the night, but his throat was still burning. He ignored it, perhaps for the first time in ages.
All because of that stupid witcher, Geralt, he reminded himself and then cursed.
‘Why do I need to remember the name of a god's damned witcher?’
He reverted to smoke again. If he didn’t do so now he’d lack the self-control later, and likely pounce upon the first human he saw.
But he couldn’t, he was too angry and worst of all if he did...he’d only prove Geralt right.
It was spite that drove the vampire to spare the witcher from death.
'He's a stranger, a complete stranger, and yet? He was able to get to the heart of the matter. How was he able to notice but no one else?'
Not one vampire had noticed or said anything, that perhaps his drinking had gotten excessive? That it was a problem?
The only one who could say anything was no longer around.
Regis sighed. He was getting closer to the manor now. He passed the wheat fields leading to the estate in a blur.
No one was waiting for him there, he knew, he’d gotten used to the sounds at night. The emptiness of the halls and corridors. He was usually too drunk to notice these things after returning from his nightly escapades.
The only guests he expected were the one he invited, and he made sure that he’d never have a repeat of the incident where his "friends" overstayed their welcome.
Regis was on the estate grounds now. The manor was huge, it had plenty of space and was perfect for gatherings.
Once, and only once did Regis host a party of his own accord and never again. Whenever anything of that nature was brought on in the manor, it was always a family affair. But not anymore, not in a long while. The other vampires had tried to persuade him, more than once, to throw more parties but Regis refused.
He’d gotten into plenty of fights regarding this matter until eventually, they stopped asking. They would find other places to vacate but not here.
He had passed by Akoni’s room, it had been exactly as his brother left it and Regis always found himself stopping to turn by and look at the door for a moment. He grimaced and turned on his heel, away from the door, as he stepped further into the estate.
He passed the dining hall. The sunflowers he’d placed upon the table the other morning were still fresh, arranged in an orderly manner.
He had put these things here to breathe some life back into the manor.
Finally, Regis had arrived at his room. He began to examine the current state of his clothes.
‘Damn it, he cut right through the seam on the left shoulder…’ The tear reached from the corner of the seam to the middle of his shirt. He had fought a witcher and, with the exception of this cut, barely had anything to show for it.
Nothing but his memory to rely on, those haunting words, and those lovely eyes…
Regis quickly shook his head. There was no denying it, Regis immediately noted Geralt’s features before he decided to toy with him. That white hair of his, was it a result of those Trials he read about? Geralt looked rather young but he knew little of witcher aging. Those amber cat eyes, he thought they were lovely even if the witcher had been glowering at him all the while.
Geralt was lovely to look at, true, but quite vexing. He returned to his initial train of thought.
‘What had he hoped to achieve? Sever my left arm?’ Regis scoffed at the thought, but Geralt as inexperienced as he seemed had still managed to achieve this.
Were he older and wiser, perhaps their roles would have been reversed?
Regis could have been pinned there, except unlike Regis, Geralt wouldn’t taunt, gloat, or waste time. He’d simply kill Regis, it was within his nature.
Witchers didn’t discriminate against the monsters they killed, it was a job.
Geralt would collect the reward from his bounty and move on with his life. Regis would have spent, perhaps, years regenerating?
Regis laughed at the absurdity of it.
‘As if he could truly hurt me,’ he scoffed at the thought. The night’s events had drained him and he decided not to dwell on them any longer.
He needed a nice relaxing bath, if he could not have blood for the night he allowed himself this. It was easier to fall asleep afterward. Fortunately, his bedroom had a washroom within it. It was separated by another door and just like the rest of the manor, there was too much space.
He drew the bath and it was only as he was getting undressed did he notice something was missing. The mandrake recipe for his alcohol brewing. He groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. He stopped then sighed as he sank deeper into the water.
'I’ll worry over this tomorrow,’ He stretched and relaxed as best he could. It was a minor inconvenience, he was not one to make idle threats. On the slim chance, the witcher had it they would have to meet again.
‘It had better be in one piece. I’d hate to start from the beginning…’
Soon the day's events went mostly forgotten. After he dried himself, he changed into his nightwear and drifted off into sleep not long after he slid underneath the bed’s silk sheets. He had hoped to have dreamless sleep, everything had been a bloody haze-even his dreams.
“Regis,” someone was calling him but he didn’t dare open his eyes, he felt someone run their fingers through his raven-black hair and a hand on his waist. “I know you’re not asleep,” Regis grunted in response, it was true-but he still didn’t feel like opening his eyes.
Regis felt lips trail down from his shoulder, stopping just above the collarbone and then felt the scrape of teeth bite down into it.
Regis gasped. His eyes shot open and his breath caught in his throat. He hadn't expected to see those amber cat eyes staring back at him.
“Geralt?” he whispered, momentarily stunned before he quickly added “Did you just…? Bite me?!”
Geralt laughed at him, hiding his face on Regis' shoulder. His breath tickled the vampire's skin and Regis bit the inside of his cheek to stop smiling. Even Geralt's laugh was lovely.
Regis suddenly became aware of his surroundings. He was in his room, familiar armor and some clothes were scattered across the floor by the bed. He shifted on the dresser he sat on. Geralt stood before him clearly amused at the vampire's response; a lazy smile graced his lips.
“Tell me to stop then?” The witcher teased, though he kept his hands to himself. Which annoyed the vampire. Regis saw that as Geralt said this his eyes slowly blinked up at him. Contented.
The vampire was quiet for a moment, feigning disinterest before he decided to kiss the witcher.
Geralt returned the kiss in earnest. Regis felt eager hands upon him, as the witcher grabbed him by the waist and lifted him up with his arms.
Geralt placed a hand on the vampire’s thigh, and the other at the hip supporting Regis, as the vampire’s legs quickly wrapped around Geralt’s hips. The vampire's claws dug into the witcher's shoulder, then slowly trailed down his back.
They were kissing all the while. Regis’ lips parted and it allowed Geralt to deepen the kiss.
Suddenly, all thoughts ceased.
Regis felt the wall behind him now as Geralt pinned him there-
Regis awoke so fast he nearly lost his balance and fell off the bed.
"Oh, gods."